Friday, June 30, 2006

So we went to Madonna last night, and it was really amazing. You have to realize, while Her Madgesty may be clumsy in the messages she tries to get across, and her singing may not be great, and the venue may be too hot, etc, etc, etc – nobody does spectacle better than Madonna. Not even Kim Jung-il, or whatsisname.

As a gay man, we miss out on a lot of experiences. Particularly religious ones. But when that giant disco ball descended from the ceiling, only to burst open in a flash of blazing light to reveal Madonna, it was probably the closest we will ever come as a gay man to feeling what St. Teresa of Avila felt when she was shown heaven.

Then again, not being a gay man, Teresa probably never got the chance to shoot her load onto a hot stranger’s face, so everything sort of comes out even in the end.

Thursday, June 29, 2006

We are very excited today because we are going to see Madonna in concert. And even though it’s against gay rules to wear shorts to an indoor concert, we brought a pair because bitch turns off the AC and when we saw her last summer we were wicked hot.

Anyway, last night we were out at Phoenix with an old friend who we discovered used to work in the White House for Karl Rove, under the direct orders of Ken Mehlman. He was involved in “Minority Outreach,” because as half Latino, he was the closest thing to a person or color they could find who was willing to work within 50 feet of Rove, or as we like to call him, Krang.

Anyway, he told us that many of the workers under Rove, who carefully constructed the Republican voter outreach machine that steamrolled the Democrats last election season, are gay. Even very senior people. The prevailing attitude was: “We don’t talk about being gay in the office, but it’s okay for us to be fags because we’re low key about it and we’re not like the queers you see on TV.” That was tempered with the vague promise: “We’ll change the party from the inside!”

It’s funny, there used to be a term for a person like that: Uncle Tom. We know that’s incredibly offensive, but so is the idea that there are gay people willing to work for a homophobe like Rove who sweatily stamps on our rights.

It’s time for a new term for these guys – like the gay Republicans who are going to actually listen to Arnold Schwarzenegger as he patronizes them tonight.

Monday, June 26, 2006

As a final note on Pride – we spend much of the weekend in a lovely little town on the north Jersey coast. It was one of those places that makes you think twice about your preconceptions about the Jersey Shore – but not three times.

We were so impressed that when we returned to read about how two-thirds of New Jerseyans support civil unions, we were pleased, but not surprised. An interesting side note to this story is the order in which questions where asked:

“The poll found that although respondents clearly supported expanding rights for gay couples, they were not decisive about whether marriage was the answer. Half of the respondents were asked about same-sex marriage first; the other half were asked first about civil unions. Those asked first about same-sex marriage supported it by a 53 to 40 margin, but those asked about civil unions first were split, with 48 percent in favor of allowing gay marriage and 47 percent opposing.”

This makes the obvious point that wording is incredibly important. While folks seem to instinctually want gays to have the same rights as straight couples, when they are reminded that they have TWO choices (marriage vs. civil unions), they go for the less charged option. This is, of course, the result of right wing and religious rhetoric. Imagine what would happen if those forces combined to do the same thing at McDonalds, and make ordinary Americans go for “Medium” rather than “Supersize.” As a nation we’d probably lose ten pounds on average.

Another dispatch from Pride weekend has rolled in, this time from a friend who happened to stumble into the wrong (or is it right?) bar at 7:30 pm on Saturday. We apologize for the long post, no one ever showed us how to make one of those "jumps" that other blogs always use:

So I stroll over to this bar that is next door to double happiness on Mott Street. I am greeted by what I thought was a bouncer checking ID but later I realize was one of the patrons sizing me up. Inside there are about 12 guys, 12 fratty, 15 beers deep, drunk like I have never seen before, each one hotter than the next, guys (and one coyote ugly typebartendress with a push up bra). Most of them were in various states of dress, but I just assumed it was some sort of soccer thing as there is a game on the television and something about the world cup makes men do these things. I am then ordered to take off my shirt, no shirts allowed. I abstain, thinking I have a one drink minimum for that. I attempt to speak to the guy next to me at the bar who is the least rowdy of the bunch. He proceeds to fall off his bar stool, then falls again, then falls again, he finally makes it back up to the bar and hands me his sunglasses. So here is where it gets interesting. On the other side of the bar I notice a lot of hugging and such going on. Then one guy grabs a candle and pours hot wax on another guy’s chest. He then pulls down his pants and they pour wax all over his you know what, bartender taking pictures. Hmm, I thought, these guys are very comfortable with their sexuality. Then the same two guys come over and flank me and attempt to simultaneously french kiss me. They then remove my shirt and introduce themselves. One guy is British I guess, [named redacted] and looks like David Beckham. Then another guy stands up on the bar stool next to me. Someone of course pulls down his boxers and then I am offered 20 bucks to suck his dick. I abstain much to their disappointment, but no worries as he lies down on the bar and they start doing shots from his butt crack. As I ran out the door they were lining their dicks along the bar and taking pictures. Yes, this is a true story, and no, we don't understand why he left, either.

Friday, June 23, 2006

When I first moved to New York City, I was an editorial assistant to the EIC at a downtown newspaper. It was a shitty job and I hated going to work every single day. One rainy morning, in the fall, as I walked past City Hall I was stopped by a protest that was going on near the Municipal Building. Hundreds of people were lined up, peacefully, outside in the pouring rain. It looked like they were waiting in a queue for a giveaway, or something.

It turned out it was an Empire State Pride Agenda event. After Gavin Newsom, the mayor of San Francisco, began giving out marriage licenses, New York groups decided to try the same thing in our liberal city. So hundreds of couples who wanted to be legally recognized showed up.

They stood there, sometimes two by two, sometimes with children in tow, patiently, even as they got soaking wet. They waited for hours for marriage licenses they knew weren’t coming. Some of the couples had clearly been together for years, others were young and wanted to start families.

I was late to work that day because I ended up standing in the rain with them, watching.

This weekend, the city will receive thousands of visitors to celebrate Gay Pride. From cocktail parties, to parades, to pier dances, Pride is interpreted in a lot of different ways.

But when I think about it, I keep remembering that day, when I had just started becoming a New Yorker: couples in line, standing out in public, holding hands with a person they love enough to wait for hours in the pouring rain for a marriage license they will never receive. That’s what gay pride means to me.

On our way to $2 pint night at the Phoenix, we noticed a new addition to our neighborhood. Lucky Stiff’s, the bar at the northwest corner of 13th and A, had closed, and in its place has arrived a reincarnation of one of our favorite gay hellholes, Boysroom. We would have been very pleased with the development, had Boysroom not been populated at the time with fiftysomething drag queens with no makeup, dime store wigs, and bad TJ Maxx outfits.

Still, it signals an interesting development. Across the street from Boysroom is the new Cocktail gay bar, and just around the corner is Phoenix. It’s a veritable gay ghetto! We could not be more pleased that it’s merely a block away from our house. We will definitely begin training now for “Go Go Idol: The Anorexic Version.”

What’s especially important about this change is that it comes on the heels of the hate attack against drag performer Kevin Aviance last weekend. The crime took place right around the corner. Now there will be more gay eyes on the street, which will make it safer, in some regards. But for every pro, there is a con. For example:PRO: There will be more cute boys around for us to sleep with.CON: There will be more cute boys around to compete with.

PRO: One night stands will be easier to find.CON: Boys we are dating can catch us with one night stands more easily.

PRO: One night stands will be easier to get home.CON: We will always have to take one night stands back to our place.

PRO: It will be easier to get home when we are very drunk.CON: Many more cute gays will see us as we attempt to get home, very drunk.

PRO: Avenue A is the new 8th Avenue.CON: Avenue A is the new 8th Avenue.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Ian Somerhalder is set to star in an epic mini-series called “Marco Polo.”The movie, of course, is about the 13th Century explorer. The fan base that would appreciate a movie about Ian Somerhalder playing the swimming pool game is a bit limited.

And anyway, the image of a soaked Ian, bobbing up and down with eyes closed and mouth open, frantically yelping and groping, is something we’ve pretty much imagined to death anyway.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Last night we took the opportunity to go see “Broadway Bares” at Roseland Ballroom, along with every other gay in the city. (FYI – If you are trying to reach us, we will be at the gym for the rest of our lives). But for those who didn’t, here’s a rundown of the highlights:

• Naked male acrobats spinning in the air in a giant steel hula hoop, to the tune of “Hung Up.”• Mario Cantone singing “New York, New York” with 200 nearly naked dancers as his back up.• The cast of Jersey Boys claiming “All straight men wear matching suits with sequined lapels!” and then proceeding to rape (off stage) the Barrett Foa from “Avenue Q.”• Josh Strickland, the hot male lead from Tarzan, getting all of his clothes sliced off by female construction workers.• An all male (strikingly accurate) knock-off version of the Rockettes, who ended up nude and knocked down by a cum cannon.• Fran Drescher, acting like a drag queen.• A rendition of “True Colors” performed by Cyndi Lauper, which ended with her ripping off her coat to reveal nothing underneath but sparkly pasties, fishnets, and a giant pink strap-on.

Our favorite role of the night, though, would have to be the one played by Neil Patrick Harris. Sitting in front of us with a close male friend, Doogie played the role of “Closeted Voyeur.”

A Catholic anti-gay activist this summer decided to take an interesting step against us. Michael Hein of Augusta, ME, filmed this weekend's Southern Maine Gay Pride March. For those of you who have seen the New York, San Francisco or Los Angeles versions, the Portland one is about 15x less wild, and 100x less sexy. But Hein's goal was still to post the video online, as an example to other churchgoing Mainers of the immoral and outlandish behavior in which our people participate.

Quite frankly, it's a pretty good idea. During Pride Marches, many LGBT people take the opportunity to show how different and colorful we can be. For the rest of the year we go to school, we work, we go out, we take care of our families, and we worship just like everyone else, in relative obscurity. Our nightlife is relegated to small, out-of-the-way pockets of our cities, where straight people don't have to confront us in large groups. Except for this one day a year when we can march down the main thoroughfares of the places we live, and remind people that we are not exactly like them, and we're not ashamed.

To outsiders this can look intimidating, freakish, and even morally corrupt. So there will doubtless be many Catholic Mainers whose anti-gay fervor will be strengthened by watching Hein's video. We're guessing the focus of the clips will not be on P-Flag, Gay Veterans, Stonewall Seniors, or the LGBT University Students.

We wonder, though, whether the viewers and makers of this video will remember - while they are getting their hate juices boiling - the words of Leviticus: 19.

"Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself:"

See, we never asked you to think we were the same as you. We just asked you not to judge us. Seems like someone else had the same request, about 2,000 years ago.

Then again, this is a religion that was more afraid of a 21st Century work of fluff fiction than a gospel by an early disciple of the Church that said that everything they believe about the death of Christ was wrong. We should have never expected consistency.

Friday, June 16, 2006

We went to our doctor’s yesterday and were reminded about how much we love her. She never wrote down that we’re gay, but every time we ask for an STD test, she looks us up and down and says: “You have sex with … men ... yes?” (She’s Swedish). How come doctors always seem to be able to tell you’re a fag? Everybody who goes for their annual exam is wearing the same outfit (basically nothing). There’s not really much opportunity for banter or flirting (we had a gay doctor before and it was NOT HOT AT ALL. (That may be because we used to go to the Chinatown Free Clinic)). So how do they always know? We bet after performing so many testicular exams, they can just tell. When we are squeezing a guys bayools, we can always sense whether he's gay, also.

Our doctor is amazing because she gives great advice, like “Don’t brush or floss before sex with a stranger, it may open sores in your mouth, which makes you more susceptible to contracting STDs,” “If you wear gym socks it will hide the fact that one of your ankles is fatter than the other,” and “Smoking doesn’t make you sexy, Fagat.”

Other than that, nothing to report on this sunny Friday. Oh, except: Vote Brown – Thomas Bowman for White House Hottie!

Thursday, June 15, 2006

On Tuesday we went to Beige, and had a really fun night. A lot of all-stars were there, including Shania R, Charlie H, Ben W, Horacio S, David M, Chris K, Paul D, and Willem D. And the evening featured the surprise return of Josh S!

The party was only marred by the presence of this German guy we once dated. When we say “once,” we mean that literally. We went on one date. Since that time, he has called us relentlessly, sent us friendster messages, dirty text messages, and left accusatory voicemails on our phone. We are relatively new to this whole “singlehood” thing, but we were always under the impression that if a date doesn’t go well, you just don’t call the person again. That way, you can avoid embarrassing conversations or wasted “coffee dates.” It’s a subtle way of letting someone know you’re not interested, so you don’t have to say to his face “You’re not good enough.”

Anyway, the German guy confronted us and yelled at us for being “so American.” This is the second time in recent history we’ve been lectured about “being American” in our dating practices. Apparently, according to a co-worker, everywhere else in the world men only date one other man at a time. So once you’ve gone on one date, you’re off limits until you’ve broken up with that person. The idea that you can date around with a few until you find someone you like best is apparently “American,” and therefore “high-priced, low-quality, and morally bankrupt.”

We apologized to the German for behaving like a true citizen of our country, and then ran away. While running, we encountered a boy we’ve been on some dates with lately. He was with a cute friend. We thought of the German, and looked back to see him sulking alone at the bar.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Our smart and sexy friend Adam over at GLAAD sent us this list from Truth Wins OUT, which discusses common myths about ex-gays. Our favorite one is the last one: “Gaining Weight Will Help Make You Hetero.”

“My weight started to increase, and I found little desire to keep on a strict diet and stay fashionably slim,” says ex-gay John Paulk, who is a prominent ex-gay, and also spokesperson for the loathsome “Focus on the Family.” “My very appearance was changing. I was looking less and less gay. And I was perfectly happy about it.”

While we don’t love it when journalists give attention to hatemongers like the Phelps family, we think you should check out this face-off between Fox News Anchor Julie Banderas and one of the leaders of the Westboro Baptist Church, Shirley Phelps-Roper.

It’s well known that Fred Phelps and his Westboro parish intentionally try to raise the ire of opponents, hoping to incite violence or other efforts to suppress their free speech. Then, they are able to sue on First Amendment grounds and raise money for their some doubtlessly worthy cause, like a Women’s Circle, or Boy Scout Troop.

You can tell from the moment that she begins talking that Banderas is going to go bananas. She’s not the most eloquent defender of gays, but she is one of the more unlikely. Watching Anderson Cooper get riled up by idiot conservative guests is one thing, but to see it on Fox News is quite another.

It’s like when a trick offers you a warm, dampened towel to clean the lube off you, so you’re not slimy all night. Unexpected, and perhaps a little bold – but refreshing.

Monday, June 12, 2006

This weekend, we went to visit our brother in Chicago. It’s really an amazing city. It is very clean, beautiful, well-organized, friendly, and has a handsome, healthy gay population. We had a wonderful time there. But there was something missing, and we couldn’t quite place what it was. Eventually, our New York friend Kate came to the conclusion that the citizens of Chicago lacked a certain “edge.” When pressed, though, the two of us couldn’t define what it was. After all, it’s not as though Chicagoans aren’t diverse, intelligent, and creative.

Anyway, yesterday we came home, and it was one of those long trips that involve cars, planes, trains, subways and monorails. Finally, we were sitting on the L train at 8th Avenue, exhausted, waiting for it to move, at midnight, and it was sort of empty. There were some Puerto Rican Pride Parade people passed out, the requisite homeless people, etc, and on our train were a young boy, probably age 8, and his dad. The boy was clearly eager to be out so late, and the dad was obviously antsy to get home.

All of a sudden a scantily clad girl (she was probably 16) jumped onto the train, yanked off her tube top, and slammed her enormous, hugely nippled boobs into the face of the 8-year-old boy. A friend of hers cheered and videotaped with a handheld camera as she battered them against the (understandably, stunned) boy's head for a few moments. Then she flounced off the train.

We know we’re a little late to the plate on this one, but we feel we should say something about the hate crime that took place in our neighborhood over the weekend. Singer and drag performer Kevin Aviance (who was not in costume at the time) was beaten by a handful of young men on 14th street between Ave A and 1st Ave. They screamed anti-gay slurs, dragged him to the curb, and broke his jaw. Needless to say, this is a tragedy, and an outrage.

We live a block away from where the attack happened. It occurred within walking distance of half a dozen gay bars, steps away from the neighborhood’s largest Catholic church, and on a street that is always well-traveled (hence the publicist quote in the Times, "There were pedestrians everywhere. No one helped him.").

We don’t know more about the incident than anybody who can read the paper, but what we do know is that the residents of our section of Alphabet City are, on the whole, tolerant. It's not the safest, or most adorable neighborhood in the city, but we’ve remarked more than once that it is perfectly comfortable to walk down the street holding your boyfriend’s hand – unlike walking around, say, on the Upper East Side, Midtown, or in Harlem. Nobody stares, and nobody says anything. The families, the students, the churchgoers, the bodega owners – everyone who is in the neighborhood during the day doesn’t even bat an eye.

So it doesn’t surprise us that the two adult attackers are from the Bronx and Newark. That’s the kind of hate that you have to import.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

We have a troubled history with our faggy cousin, Gayz Of Our Lives. But we feel we must defend them in this particular situation, because they ARE family, and they have been fucked with. If we were a powerful black woman, right now we would say “Don’t MAKE me put my baby down!”

See, Gayz has been picked on by the pimply bully of the gay blog playground, I Probably Hate You. He called the residents of the fun Gayz Fire Island house ugly. They are not.

You remember the awkward kid who hit puberty first and was bigger and fatter than everyone else on the tire swings? That’s IPHY. His MO is to pick on everyone and everything around him. Sometimes he is funny. Most of the time he is just mean. And quite frankly, that’s boring.

Allow us to tell you about the time when we met dear Rocco, who writes IPHY. We were at Beige, with our friend Dylan. This fat guy in a football sweatshirt (yes, you read that correctly) came up and introduced himself. He expected us to know who he was. We did not. He said “I write this blog called ‘I Probably Hate You,’ it’s very popular.” Not with us. “I write about you and Hot Boy Posse sometimes,” he said to Dylan, somewhat eagerly. “I thought you’d hate me.”

Dylan, completely nonplussed, shrugged it off and said it was nice to meet him. Rocco, all in a tizzy because he didn’t get a reaction out of Dylan, kept coming back to talk to him. Eventually, it became clear that Rocco was awkwardly seeking his approval.

So we later went to read what he said about Dylan and HBP, and it was pretty harsh. All in all, classic bully maneuvers. Be cruel to others, when all you really want is to be popular. Hey, who does that remind us of, lately?

Which brings us to our conclusion: In the gay bar of life, the Bush Administration is the fat guy in the football sweatshirt.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

1) The proposed anti-gay marriage amendment was defeated in the Senate. This was obviously going to happen, but increased support this time around was touted on the part of conservatives. The right seems to forget that Republicans, even more than Democrats, hate frivolous legislation and wasted resources. If they knew they were going to lose, why the reckless use of everyone’s time? Even red staters can see through this ruse.2) Jon Stewart eviscerates anti-equal marriage writer Bill Bennett. You really have to watch it.3) Macy’s in Boston removed two male mannequins, draped in a rainbow flag, from their store window after pressure from conservative customers. The display, which started as a fun advertisement for Boston Pride, remains with a gaping space where the models stood before. The empty, needless remaining space is a far better testament to our exclusion - and victimization at the hands of bigots - than two plastic dummies could ever be.4) Ryan Reynolds dumps Alanis Morissette, allowing millions of gay fantasy engines to rev up again.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Do you remember when you first knew you were gay? (For those of you who are not gay reading this – imagine another independent development, like the first time you realized your own political opinion, as opposed to parroting what you’d heard your parents say while listening to NPR). You were probably in your tweens, or later, because before you were too absorbed in learning about the world to really think about yourself that closely. In that, you were probably lucky.

This Village Voice article, about a 5-year-old boy who identifies as a girl, is fascinating. At age 2, he told his parents: "I want the fairy princess to come and make my penis into a vagina," he said. And you thought you were precocious.

We’ve never been really able to wrap our heads around the whole transsexual issue, because we don’t really relate to it much. So articles like these, which present the issue in a balanced light, are helpful. It helps see how people who don’t have a lot of exposure to gay people might feel about our own issues.

Also, for the rest (ok, most) of you NOT interested in reading about a gender variant five-year-old, there’s an educational slide show on the left side of the Village Voice website, which will teach you all about that cocktail waiter at Mr. Black who wears no pants.

Friday, June 02, 2006

We were reading our latest “Interview Magazine,” and we came across a Q&A between Hugh Jackman and “X-Men: The Last Stand” director Brett Rattner. First let us just say that we really liked “X3,” and if you go see it, wait until the end of the credits. But anyway, this exchange between Hugh and Brett snagged our attention. It’s about John Palermo, Hugh’s former assistant, current producing partner and manager, and all around megawatt hottie:

Rattner: I saw that when we were dressing you for the X-Men movie, John Palermo was like “Those jeans are the ones.” He just knew.Jackman: Once I put them on, I’ll know. But he can just tell.

Last night we met Amy Sedaris for the first time. She was at NewFest, the LGBT film festival in New York, where the first screening of her movie “Strangers With Candy” was held. She had walked to 34th Street from her West Village apartment, in the pouring rain, along with the film’s director, Paul Dinello. She was understandably soaked when she arrived, but remained completely chipper. She informed us that, yes, she was still selling cupcakes (she was up at 7 am yesterday filling an order), and no, she will not say whether she or brother David is the funnier sibling.

Reports are that the movie is hilarious, and according to Dinello, not too many changes had to be made to get the movie past the issues that caused Warner Independent to drop it.

We have nothing funny to say about this, so we’ll leave you with a poem from the TV show, which our old roommate was wont to recite at innappropriate times:

"Packing a Musket", by Jerri Blank.

When you work from your home and johns call on the phone, you're a call girl.When you walk 'til you limp and give a cut to a pimp, you're a street whore.When they're beggin' you please to get down on your knees near their groinage,excusa me, but you see, don't you touch where they pee without coinage.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Sometimes the Republican spin cycle is really amazing to us – especially when it is sudsing the gays. Take a Washington Times story from yesterday, which was linked on Drudge. The headline blared: “DNC Chair Dean Suggested that Opponents of Homosexual "Marriage" are Bigots.”

First of all, we love the scare quotes around “marriage.” Like we’re talking about gay “competitive sports,” or something. But second, you have to look at what Howard Dean (who we don’t necessarily love either, for the record), actually said:

"At a time when the Republican Party is in trouble with their conservative base, Bill Frist is taking a page straight out of the Karl Rove playbook to distract from the Republican Party's failed leadership and misplaced priorities by scapegoating LGBT families for political gain, using marriage as a wedge issue," said Mr. Dean. "It is not only morally wrong, it is shameful and reprehensible.”

You’ll notice the word bigot is never used anywhere. What Dean said, and we agree, is that right wing leadership is using incendiary issues like abortion, gay marriage, and flag burning to try to distract their conservative base from the deep flaws in other elements of their policy. Which is an excellent point. By forcing the general public to face the gay marriage issue before everyone is appropriately educated, Republicans are robbing LGBT families of a chance to fairly defend themselves. It’s not about our problems now, it’s about theirs.

Because they realize this is a good point, right wing writers like Matt Drudge and the Washington Times’ Greg Pierce have taken the NEXT page from the Karl Rove playbook, and twisted Dean’s words to sound shrill, close-minded, and hysterical. Which thereby robs them of their logical weight.

If only the Democrats were as good at this skill. Then every time a conservative shrieked “the gays want to destroy traditional marriage!!!” the headlines could say “Republican Panic Spreads from Immigrants To Gays. Are Low Income Families, Jews Next?”